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I'll surpass any introductory blabbering and get straight to the subjects inscribed upon my cranium—

At this very moment, I'm beginning to feel my age. This peeving address has always been an eye-roller for me as I thoroughly believe in the colloquialism "You're only as old as you feel". Somewhat ironic that, in real time, I'm beginning to understand why such statements are scoffed at. What I feel is a lingering attachment to my years past, an affectionate wanting to how my daily life spun. Is this an unduly reaction to change? Possibly.

Under the microscope, I'm nearly positive whatever "change" that lies in my future will not be bizarre as I've previously breathed life through odder circumstances. There's a child that continuously yearns to return to innocent discovery and untainted role models.

Blah, blah, blah. Further down that thought is my realization of "is this what my siblings used to feel like?" Is this sudden halt of progress what every adult acknowledges with contempt, such as I? There are experiences to be had! Therein is a world to be rediscovered through infinite processes. I am still a traveling virgin despite my copious love made with my ancestors' land.

And yet the most luxurious crown jewels cannot be offered to me if there lies beside it a chance to rewind my childhood.

In short, I'm very anxious about how the reel of my adult life will play out. Hmm.